


what do you hear in those sounds?

by memorysdaughter



Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Partial Deafness, post 2x10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 09:19:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9432500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memorysdaughter/pseuds/memorysdaughter
Summary: Post 2x10.Patterson's first night home from the hospital doesn't go well.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm super-happy Patterson survived everything that happened... but I'm super melancholy and wondered what it would be like if her torture had further side effects and health ramifications. Hence, this.
> 
> There might be more at some point or this might just be a one-shot.

They let her out of the hospital after twenty-four hours, with a list of instructions and a bag of medication.  Weller comes to pick her up - she can’t leave without a driver because she’s been pumped full of painkillers.  Patterson can’t argue with that.  She has a raging headache; she’s furrowing her brow and clenching her jaw every time someone talks to her, as though that’s going to help her hear them any better.

Her hearing hasn’t gotten any better, but she’s shoving down all of the worry that’s coming along with that.  It’ll come back.  The body’s a very effective healing machine.  Modern medicine is well-equipped to fix eardrums, even if they were punctured by a curly-haired sadist.

Weller’s hand comes down on her arm and she whips around. “What?”

She knows her voice is too loud, but forces that thought out of her mind as she leans in, trying to read his lips.

“Are you… okay… alone tonight?” is what she gets.

“I’m fine,” Patterson replies.  Her voice sounds weak and scrawny, but she can tell from Weller’s expression that it’s still too loud.

“... can have… stay… you.”

She shakes her head. “I’m tired.”

He nods. “... rest.”

Patterson gathers up her stuff and prepares to get out of the car.  Once again Weller taps her on the arm.  He puts his hand up to his face in a “phone” shape.  She frowns at him.  He mimes “give it to me.”

She sighs and does so.

Weller takes her phone and taps at it for a few seconds.  When he hands it back, she sees an open note: “I turned your ringer to ‘vibrate.’  I want this in contact with some part of your body at all times, so you can get in touch with us if you need us.  Feel free to text instead of call.  And if you change your mind on not wanting someone here, all you have to do is ask.”

“I’m just going to sleep!” she protests.

Weller winces.

“Sorry,” Patterson says, trying to make her voice softer.

“I’m just worried about you,” Weller says.  She hears the whole message, so she knows he’s speaking loudly.

“I’m just going to sleep,” she repeats.

With that, Patterson gets out of the car.

 

Inside her apartment everything is too calm, too still, too tidy.  It all reminds her of Robert - _Nigel_ , she corrects herself.  Thinking about him brings up the image of his face, of the way his hands felt on her body, of the cold clarity of his voice as he said _goodbye_ to her in that dark room, putting something lethal through her IV as her face throbbed from a blow to the jaw and pain shot through her ears and into her skull.

That pain grips her now, along with a spreading throbbing in her gut.  Patterson dumps her things on the floor near the door, grabs the pain meds from her purse, and stumbles towards the bathroom.  She shoves her phone into her pocket, remembering Weller’s words.  She doesn’t want to see anyone or talk to anyone; it’s probably in her best interest _not_ to have a team of FBI agents and a tattooed super soldier bust down her door while she’s actually getting some sleep.

In the bathroom she ignores her own reflection in the mirror.  She doesn’t want to see the nasty bruise on her jaw or the bandages they taped over her ears so nothing else would run out of them.  She quickly runs water into a glass and swallows two of the pain pills.

Her body still pulsing with pain, she wastes no time crawling into bed.  Weller brought her some workout clothes from her locker at the office, and they suffice as makeshift pajamas.  Patterson curls up as tightly as her recently-shot abdomen will allow her, suddenly she can’t remember the last time she was so awake.

Flashes of memory rip through her mind.   _Borden.  Gunshot.  Pain.  Darkness.  Waking up.  Standing up.  Going to strangle him.  Shepherd.  Tied up.  Pain.  Needle.  Pain.  Pain.  Pain.  Darkness.  Silence._

Her teeth start chattering and she clenches her hands into fists.  She’s freezing but her numb body won’t let her pull up the covers.  More pain slams into her chest and breathing gets difficult.  Tears stream down her face.  The room shrinks around her.  She chokes, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to block out everything around her.  Her exhausted body screams with pain and everything in her cries out for time to stop, to go back to how things were…

But she can’t even remember a time when things were normal.  When things didn’t hurt so much.

It’s like a punch to the sternum, and she bows in over it.

The phone in her pocket rams itself into her hip and for a moment it breaks the chain of panic wrapped around her chest.  Before she can process her movements she yanks it out and dials, almost blindly, pressing it close to her ear.

Patterson hears “...’lo?  Patt...”

“Jane?  Jane, it’s me!  I can’t hear you, but…” She sucks in a breath. “I can’t… I can’t be here alone anymore.  I’m so sorry I’m calling, I know this is stupid but I need…”

She breaks off her sentence. “I need… I’m scared.”

The phone vibrates against her hand.  Puzzled, she looks down at it, seeing a text message from Jane.   _I heard you.  I’ll be there as soon as I can.  It’s going to be okay._

 

Patterson’s still huddled on the bed when her phone vibrates again.   _I’m here.  Come let me in._

She tries to get to her feet but the world is wobbly and bright and blurry; the painkillers have kicked in.  One foot finds the carpet and the other wavers in space a few seconds before her entire body pitches forward.  Nothing hurts until she slams into the floor, and then her jaw radiates pain up to the top of her head.  A shocked “UNH!” comes out of her mouth.  She’s not too much in pain, she’s mostly just surprised.

After a few seconds her brain kicks back in and she starts trying to get to her feet.  Her joints are loose and moving her body seems to be even more difficult than she remembered.  Fighting off the panic that hasn’t really abated and the indistinct white noise in her head, she crawls towards the front door.

Seconds before she can even start to think about trying to get up to figure out the door’s lock, the door swings open.  Patterson jerks backwards.

Jane’s standing there before her, phone in one hand and a key in the other.  She looks concerned.  Her lips move, and Patterson hears, “... okay?”

Patterson bows her head.  She’s so tired.

Jane leans down, kneeling at Patterson’s side.  She gently touches Patterson’s cheek and says something.  Patterson just shakes her head.  The panic inches up around her chest again and she squeezes her eyes shut so as not to let Jane see her cry.

She feels Jane move away, and then she feels the phone in her hand vibrate.

_I’m so sorry.  How can I help you?_

Patterson shakes her head. “I don’t know,” she sobs.

The phone vibrates again.  _I’m going to try something.  Just trust me, please._

Through her tears, Patterson looks up at Jane and nods.  Jane leans in and scoops Patterson up from the floor.  Patterson tenses and leans into Jane’s shoulder.

Jane sets Patterson down on her bed and sits down next to her.  Somewhere in the haze of panic and pain and blurry emotion, Patterson realizes Jane’s pulling her up against her body, curling around her.  Jane’s head comes down close to her ear. “It’s okay,” Jane says. “Sleep for a little while.”

“Scared,” Patterson says, and she knows her voice is too loud. “I’m so sorry.  I’m so sorry, Jane.”

“I’ll be right here,” Jane answers.  Her voice is steady.

Patterson leans into Jane and closes her eyes.  Her body is so heavy and the world’s so blurry… the darkness is so damn frightening though. “Just… promise…” she gets out.

“I promise, you’re safe,” Jane says, still close to her ear.

It’s not what Patterson wanted to say, but she can’t find the right words before she drifts out.

 

Jane’s phone rings a few minutes after Patterson falls asleep. “Hi, Weller.  Thanks for her spare key.”

“No problem.  How is she?”

“Whatever painkillers they gave her are pretty impressive… she was a rag doll.  She’s passed out.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m kind of the big spoon right now.”

There’s silence from the other end of the phone. “I’m sorry?”

“She was so anxious and floppy that she couldn’t stand up, Weller.  I kinda had to pick her up and scoop her into bed,” Jane says. “I don’t think she’s too… focused.”

“No, that’s fine.  I just meant… who told you about big and little spoons?”

Jane laughs. “I’m not actually sure.  Maybe Patterson did.”

She looks down at Patterson, still curled up against her. “Weller.”

“Yeah?”

“Did the hospital tell her how long it’s going to take to get her hearing back?”

Weller sighs. “No.  She has a couple of days before they want to go in and take a look with a special scope to find out if she’ll need surgery… or if it’ll heal on its own.”

“Is it going to be permanent?”

“It’ll depend on what they see.”

Patterson lets out a whimper and rolls to one side.  Jane awkwardly hesitates, then gently strokes Patterson’s head.  She’s almost positive it won’t do anything, and she’s pleasantly surprised when Patterson seems to settle. “What do I do now, Weller?”

“Let her sleep,” Weller replies. “When she wakes up, get her to eat something.”

“That’s it?”

“Did you want a further assignment?  Something more… active?” Weller laughs. “I don’t need anyone hunted down and dealt with at the moment.”

Jane sighs. “I guess I’ll just… stay right here.”

“Somebody has to be the big spoon, Jane.”

 

In her dreams all she sees is Borden.  She feels his hands on her, and she knows they’re doing things that are supposed to be pleasurable - stroking her head and her arms, holding her close, touching all of those neglected places in ways that made her feel so good.  She feels his lips on her face, whispering something in her ear, kissing her neck, trying to impart some message she can no longer hear.

All of it feels wrong.  Something strange and skittering crawls over her skin, mildly irritating before it turns to outright burning pain.  A gunshot goes off and all of the air is knocked out of her lungs.

She falls backwards, Borden’s face over her somehow as pain blossoms up through her body.  She can’t breathe.  He bends down.  His lips move, he’s saying something, but she can’t breathe and she can’t focus long enough to figure out what it is.  The world around her is blurry and she’s losing track of things.

She tries to suck in a breath and pain radiates through her.  Borden leans down and suddenly she realizes there’s an IV in her arm.  He speaks again and she can understand it perfectly: _Goodbye, Patterson_.

 

She wakes with a scream, pushing herself back from whatever’s holding her down.  She scrambles away from the arms around her and collapses to the floor.  Her head impacts and she cries out in pain, folding over on herself, sobbing and sucking in painful breaths.

Gentle hands touch her arm.  Patterson looks up and sees Jane carefully brushing hair away from her face. “Patterson,” Jane says carefully, making sure Patterson can see her lips. “Tell me what I can do.”

Patterson tries to speak but only a series of garbled syllables make it out of her mouth.  Then she practically yells three words: “Hold me.  Please.”

Jane hesitates for an instant and then her arms wrap around Patterson, squeezing her tightly.  Patterson rocks back and forth in Jane’s embrace, sobbing.  Jane pats her back and tries to say comforting things, words that get sucked up into Patterson’s sobs and which are useless since Patterson isn’t looking at her.

After awhile the sobbing slows and Patterson shudders and bows her head.  Jane reaches over to the small table next to the bed and grabs a hair tie; she twists Patterson’s hair up into a messy bun. “That’s better,” she says gently.

Patterson still has her head down, so Jane carefully touches her cheek.  Patterson jerks away. “Sorry!” she yells.

“It’s okay,” Jane says, just relieved Patterson’s eyes are on her. “Let’s… let’s go somewhere else.”

She stands up and helps Patterson to her feet.  Patterson sways and leans against Jane. “Sleepy.”

“I know.  I can understand that,” Jane says.

“What?”

Jane just has to smile.  She puts her arm around Patterson’s shoulder and carefully walks the two of them out to the couch.  Patterson sinks down into it and curls up.  Jane leans down, making sure Patterson can see her mouth. “Weller says you need to eat something.”

“He’s not here,” Patterson points out.  She yawns.

“You need to take more medication at some point, so you need to eat.  What do you want?”

“What?” Patterson shakes her head and then immediately looks like she regrets it; she squeezes her eyes shut and waves one hand at Jane. “Don’t… don’t repeat it.”

Jane sits down next to Patterson and waits until Patterson opens her eyes again. “What do you want to eat?” Jane asks carefully.

“Oh,” Patterson says. “Ice cream.  And drippy eggs.”

She leans her head back against the couch. “Jane?”

Halfway to the kitchen, Jane turns around. “What?”

“I’m not going to be okay again, am I?”

Jane watches as Patterson furrows her brow, eyes distant and confused.  Instead of her yelling, Patterson’s voice is soft and wispy. “I thought… I thought it would end when you found me.  I thought I could be okay… and it’s…”

She waves her hands at her ears. “... it’s all gone.  And I…”

Jane sits back down next to her and wraps her arms around Patterson.  It seems as though all of the fight has gone out of Patterson, though; she merely leans into Jane.

They sit for awhile, Jane just holding Patterson’s hand. “I promise you, it will be okay again.”

Patterson doesn’t move or respond; she’s facing away from Jane and didn’t hear a word of it.  There’s only silence.


End file.
